


Childhood Bedroom

by stonerimie



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Bottom Lee Minho, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Top Bang Chan, Trans Lee Minho, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, afab language, pussy eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerimie/pseuds/stonerimie
Summary: Chan looked up at him, mesmerised by how even in the cheap yellow light that flickered every so often Minho still managed to look perfect. “How are you real?”The other wasn’t new to the question, laughing softly and showing his gorgeous smile. He was in love, head over heels and rational thought thrown out the window in love. “I just am,” Minho replied, which was the same as always. “Same as you.”--Minho gets fucked in his childhood bedroom as a birthday present.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 7
Kudos: 276





	Childhood Bedroom

This was all Minho needed to be happy for his birthday, being together with Chan while the party was still going on downstairs. He went home from college, both to see his parents and to avoid having to organise a party in his tiny dorm room. 

It was the first time Chan was seeing his childhood bedroom, the dark blue curtains with the different coloured race cars on it and the stacks of comics that were put on his shelf in a way he never took the time to sort out. Chan was smiling brightly, sitting down on the star patterned covers of his single bed with a spiderman comic in hand. 

“You’re gonna read?” Minho asked, Chan flipping it open and scanning the yellowed pages of it. A corner of each page was crinkled from the time Minho knocked over his drink, rustling obnoxiously every time Chan flipped it. “...Chan.”

Chan ignored him playfully, digging his toes into the stained carpet as he kept reading. Minho’s childhood was hugging him, even though he always feared it would be suffocating. 

Minho grabbed the top of the comic, snatching it from him and laying it with the cover up on his dusty nightstand. This entire room was a part of Minho, Chan wasn’t sure how to handle that. One of the cats was cuddled up on a sweater thrown next to the closet, one that Chan didn’t recognise. 

The younger pushed him down until his back rested on the sheets, Chan’s eyes fell upon the pink paint that creeped in the corner where the blue hadn’t covered it well. Minho grabbed his chin carefully, Chan redirecting his gaze at the younger’s face. 

“I feel like I’m intruding,” He whispered, gently curling his fingers around Minho’s slender wrist. “This is yours, I don’t want to force myself in.”

“You’re mine too, you deserve to be here.” Minho shrugged, his tongue showing for a split second to wet his chapped lips. There was a tube of chapstick on the nightstand, right next to the comic book. Neither of them bothered to take it, Minho’s lips were always chapped. “You make me feel safe, Chan.”

Minho didn’t like race cars, or the horrible shade of blue, he liked hearts more than stars. 

Chan looked up at him, mesmerised by how even in the cheap yellow light that flickered every so often Minho still managed to look perfect. “How are you real?”

The other wasn’t new to the question, laughing softly and showing his gorgeous smile. He was in love, head over heels and rational thought thrown out the window in love. “I just am,” Minho replied, which was the same as always. “Same as you.”

He scoffed, looking up at the ceiling and noticing how more specks of pink popped up the longer he stared. How the window frame hadn’t been stripped of the lilac paint completely and how the railing holding up the curtains was bent from the material being too heavy. It was all planned out wrong, and Chan found it oddly suitable for Minho. 

“I’ve never done anything in this room,” Minho whispered, climbing off of Chan to sit at the end of the bed with his legs crossed instead. “Not even kissing, only touching myself.”

“Shit,” Chan cursed, looking around again. There were small figurines of different animals on the same shelf as the comic books, layers of dust buildup on them to make some look completely different colours. “Understandable, I guess.”

“Fuck me?”

While Chan had been staring at the tigers, Minho had slipped a hand into his pants to play with himself lazily. The older’s breath hitched, his chest puffing up with oxygen as he watched how Minho let his head roll back and his eyes fall shut. The other was ethereal, like having a God in front of him. 

Minho grinned when he opened his eyes just the slightest and saw Chan’s red cheeks, biting his bottom lip as he rubbed himself under his pants. 

“You know I can’t resist you,” Chan almost whined, crawling forward and connecting their lips. The guests downstairs cheered at something, most likely a game. It felt like they were cheering for him. “Does it feel good, touching yourself like that?”

He nodded, pulling his fingers from his pants and resting them on Chan’s lips. The older took in the digits, suckling on them softly and humming at the taste of Minho’s slick. It was always tasteless aside from a slight bitterness, Chan found a strange comfort in it anyways. “You just keep getting prettier, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes always clouded over slightly when he got to have Minho close, when he got to taste and feel him again. It was always special, no matter the amount of times they’d done it.

Minho pulled back his fingers, gripping the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head to reveal the scars on his chest and shoulders. Chan leaned forward, placing a kiss over the junction between his neck and shoulder. 

It earned him a happy sigh from his boyfriend, tilting his head to the side for better access. Chan took it as a sign to place more kisses along his skin, littering it with the soft show of affection. “Can I eat you out?” It was nothing but a mumble against Minho’s skin, but it was audible. “I want to taste you.”

The younger giggled, humming right as Chan kissed his throat. “Don’t rush.”

“Didn’t mean to,” Chan whispered, Minho could feel how he smiled against his skin. More yelling and laughter from downstairs, like a different world. “You’re just so irresistible.”

Minho giggled, hands tangling in Chan’s hair carefully. “They won’t miss us,” He mused, feeling the older’s breath fan over his skin. It was slow, a little too soft. “It’s my birthday, you kind of have to do what I say.” 

Which was a joke, of course it was.

There were no obligations between them, there were no flaws. It took a while for Minho to realise that, to accept that his anatomy wasn’t a flaw either. Chan loved him exactly how he was, he was perfect to his boyfriend, and eventually he allowed himself to join Chan in thinking that way. 

Chan’s lips brushed over his skin again, leaving an occasional kiss but mostly teasing him with the softest tickling of his breath. “I won’t rush.”

“Good,” Minho whispered, sighing with something alike to pleasure. He laughed, just as breathy but much more cheerful. He accentuated it with an accidental tug on Chan’s brown curls. “It’s like the first time.”

“It is,” Chan agreed, some details -memories- flickering through his head. “Still perfect.”

Minho scoffed softly, his breath hitching when Chan’s teeth sank into his skin softly. His fingers squeezed and tugged again, digging into the other’s scalp in return for the bite.

The older slipped his hand into his pants, feeling through his folds and grinning against his skin. “You’re fucking dripping, Minho,” He cursed, pushing his middle finger into Minho’s silky heat and pausing his kisses to smile down at him. “Good to know I still have the same effect on you.”

“Confident, are we?” Minho teased, Chan’s lips pulling into a familiar smile again. “You’re still the one wearing the collar here.”

Which was true, they liked to dabble around in less vanilla play every so often. Chan liked wearing the item as a regular necklace, the black leather band around his neck secured with a silver heart-shaped lock. 

“Don’t use that against me,” Chan smiled, pulling his hand from Minho’s pants and licking the wetness from his fingers. His puffy lips around his bony fingers, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and the saliva being left behind on his chin after he pulled the digits from his mouth. He tapped the button of Minho’s leather pants with his index finger. “Please?”

“Go ahead,” Minho replied, lifting his hips as Chan tugged them down and his underwear came with. The way his happy trail descended into his pubes was revealed, the wet spot in his boxers hidden by the jeans taking them along. “Fuck-”

This was his childhood bedroom, where he spent hours reading comics and where he played with dolls. Where he ran race cars over the carpet that kept collecting stains over time. 

It was where he spent time alone with a boy he had feelings for that he didn’t understand, where he had spent too much time observing the other’s face and eventually grabbed his hand like he always saw mom and dad do. Jisung hadn’t minded, always letting him do as he pleased.

Until Minho confessed in high school and Jisung explained that he didn’t see him like that, and he didn’t see boys like that. He still held Minho’s hand when he told their other friends, because it was normal for them to, and Minho felt accepted. 

This was his childhood bedroom, and now he had Chan and everything he used to be worried about didn’t bother him anymore. 

Chan dropped his clothes next to the bed, completely oblivious to Minho’s loving gaze as he situated himself between his legs. “Or am I rushing too much?” He teased fondly, his hands on top of Minho’s knees as the other still had his legs pressed together. It was almost embarrassing how wet he was, shaking his head at the question. “Can I?”

Minho spread his legs by his own will, Chan’s hands sliding from his knees to the insides of his soft thighs. His labia were glistening from wetness, puffy and red and so soft. “You can.”

He leaned down, looking into Minho’s eyes as he dropped his tongue and flicked his swollen clit with it. It made his breath hitch, his thighs trembling with surprise. Chan only smiled for a second before he pushed closer, taking Minho in his mouth and suckling softly. 

The male had an awful habit of making eye contact whenever he pleasured Minho like this, allowing him to see how they got glassier the longer he kept going. 

At first Minho thought it was a way to search for approval, later he realised that Chan got off on it. He reached down, Chan immediately finding his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Just like that,” Minho groaned, low and guttural in his throat. “Fucking hell, Chan.” 

Chan was somewhat of a God when it came to eating pussy, frantic and passionate and sweet and slow with his movements. His tongue always weaved its path over and in between the folds with practiced perfection, the lower half of his face never failing to get drenched from his own actions. 

He focused on Minho’s sweet spot again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he sucked and licked at it. Chan pressed two fingers against his slick entrance, smoothly pushing in.

“Jesus Christ, Chan,” Minho moaned, using his free hand to tangle in Chan’s brown curls as the older’s gaze flickered up to look into his eyes again. He steadily pumped his fingers inside of Minho, tongue rapidly flickering over him. “Don’t stop, fuck.”

The older wrapped his lips around the nub instead, bobbing his head up and down slightly and teasing his tongue over the tip as he thrusted the digits faster. Pushing his fingers into him just right each time, sucking him effortlessly to make electric pleasure buzz through his veins. Minho gripped his hair tightly, rutting his hips against Chan’s face to reach his orgasm.

So close, and then suddenly pulling Chan away right as he was about to topple over the edge. His breathing thick enough to make his chest heave, his legs twitching with need. 

“Are you okay?” Chan worried, because it was very rare for Minho to rob himself of an orgasm. The younger sighed softly, hand untensing in Chan’s hair as he laughed at himself. “Did something happen?”

“Didn’t feel like squirting on your face,” Minho whispered, staring up at the bright blue ceiling. Right, they were in his childhood bedroom. “Sorry.”

Chan laughed as well, resting his forehead on Minho’s soft thigh. “You know I wouldn’t mind,” He replied, pulling back his fingers and wiping them on the sheets when he wasn’t sure if Minho wanted to keep going. A break was always nice, a moment to talk. He could hear the chatter downstairs if he concentrated, quiet and comfortable. “You okay?”

“Never been better,” He smiled, gentle as he carded his fingers through Chan’s hair. “Did I hurt your scalp? You should tell me if I do.”

“I would’ve told you if you did,” Chan readjusted his position on his thigh, smiling softly and closing his eyes. His brown curls and bare face made him look soft, angelic as he laid on Minho’s leg. “You know I would.”

Minho’s fingers gently prodded at his scalp, massaging softly while Chan hummed in satisfaction. “I really want you to make me cum, Channie,” He sighed, earning a sweet giggle from the older. Chan was sweet, teasingly close to perfection. “I might even let you fuck me if you do well.”

“Can I?” He wondered, his fingertips dancing over Minho’s skin. “I wanna please you.”

He tightened his hold on Chan’s hair, nodding when the older looked into his eyes. “Go ahead, baby,” Minho hummed, feeling Chan’s fingers brush over his heat again, pushing in between the folds and swiping up slick. “Make me cum.”

The older pushed his fingers inside once more, pressing a kiss into Minho’s pubes and kissing down until he could take Minho’s clit into his mouth again. 

It didn’t take long before he felt himself rushing towards the orgasm he previously stole from himself, Chan’s tongue and fingers working magic on his most sensitive spots. “Oh, I’m close, s-so close,” He warned, worried that he might rip out Chan’s hair with how tight he was squeezing. “Fuck, Chan, fuck-”

Chan worked him through his orgasm, the pads of his fingers carefully rubbing over Minho’s insides as he lavishly swirled his tongue around Minho. The hold hurt that time, Chan squeezing Minho’s hand in return to deal with the stings of pain. 

He came down from his high slowly, his hand easing its hold on Chan’s hair as he sighed happily. “If eating pussy is a talent, then you certainly have it.”

“Don’t want me to get too confident now, do you?” Chan mocked, straightening his back and stretching with a groan, the hunched position he’d chosen wasn’t ideal for comfort. He crawled up, hovering over Minho’s face and leaning down to softly connect their lips. 

“You get to be confident now that you’ve rocked my shit,” Minho mumbled, placing a hand on his face as he deepened the kiss. Soft breaths fanning over Chan’s face, hands on the back of his head, constantly trying to get him closer without considering what was physically possible. “How are you still wearing clothes? Get naked.”

The older was quick with it, getting stuck in his sweater for a moment before revealing his sculpted chest, fumbling with the button and zipper on his pants before hastily pulling them off. He got rid of his boxers, a sticky spot in them from where his cock leaked. 

His cock was so hard that it almost looked painful, bobbing up and down as he repositioned himself. The bed screamed in protest, old wood creaking as he walked around on his knees. 

“Fuck me,” Minho invited, wrapping his legs around Chan’s waist as the older leaned down above him. He could feel how Chan rubbed his cock over his clit, slowly bringing his hips back and forth in an action that almost felt experimental. Minho’s arms circled his neck, looking into his eyes once more. “Channie, put it in.”

Chan reached down to grip himself, positioning himself against Minho’s hole and pushing in slowly. Minho was hot velvet around his cock, like it was welcoming him all over as he felt embarrassingly close with the first push. 

The older trembled, planting his hands at the sides of Minho’s head. “You’re so fucking tight,” He groaned, resting his forehead against Minho’s. “Shit, Minho.”

“Don’t cum,” Minho warned, Chan pouting. It wasn’t that he was sensitive -even though he was-, it was the fact that it was Minho who was under him. He whined softly, twitching inside Minho as his fingers curled into the sheets. “Seriously, Chan. Hold that back, I wanna get fucked tonight.”

“I can’t,” Chan mewled, Minho was melting into the mattress with each word he said and each look he gave. His teary eyes and flushed cheeks gave away everything he was thinking. “You’re too pretty, it’s turning me on too much.”

“Pull out,” He whispered, Chan biting his bottom lip as he drew back his hips and gripped the base of his cock tightly when the parting made a wet noise. “Take a few breaths, baby.”

Minho clasped a hand over his shoulder, nodding slowly as Chan allowed himself to be pushed onto his back. On the star patterned sheets that made the younger smile at him, brushing back the strands of his sweaty hair. Chan felt smaller than ever, like Minho hovering over him was for protection. 

“I’m gonna ride you, is that okay?” Minho wondered, earning an eager and somehow still hesitant nod. “You can cum whenever, I’ll keep going until I’m satisfied. If you need to stop, you can always use the safeword.”

“Okay,” Chan whispered, holding his breath as Minho sank down on his cock. “I-I love you.”

Minho giggled, bright and warm. “I love you too,” He smiled, grabbing Chan’s wrists and placing them on his waist. Chan squeezed softly, watching the smooth skin dip under his fingertips the more pressure he added. Minho placed his hands on his chest for support, licking his lips. “Real as ever.” 

Chan nodded as he started to raise and drop his hips, moving over his cock at a slow pace. “You feel really good,” He sighed, his hands easing their hold but far from letting go. “Did you drink? Y-you’re usually not this hot inside.”

“Sober,” Minho claimed, in case his perfect pace and control weren’t enough of an indication. “We’re just having sex, you and me. Just like always, but in my childhood bedroom.”

“But it’s so good,” Chan slurred, a breathy moan forcing its way out when Minho sped up his pace. Minho hooked his finger under the older’s collar, tugging just the slightest. Chan looked at him with one of the most sinful gazes he’d seen so far, a single tear creeping down his temple into his hair. “Am I pretty? You’re looking at me differently.”

“God, yes,” He laughed softly, lowering his hips to rotate them instead, grinding on his dick and closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re always gorgeous, Channie. You look better every time we fuck.”

“I wanna cum,” The older whined, his eyes not once moving away from Minho’s face. “Please make me cum, pretty pretty please.”

Minho hummed in satisfaction, rolling his hips just right. “I’m not satisfied though, baby,” He teased, moving his hands to thumb over Chan’s nipple. “You won’t get to stop, that overstimulation would be horrible, hm? Do you want to do that to yourself?”

“Yeah,” Chan whispered, grabbing Minho’s hips tight enough to lift him slightly and fucking up into his hole with desperate thrusts. It drew the most gorgeous moans from Minho, making the younger shake from pleasure with the messy and pleasure chasing manner in which he was fucking him. “Yeah, yeah, pleasepleaseplease.”

His balls were slapping against Minho’s skin, his slick creating messy strings between them and making each thrust sound wetter than the previous one. 

Chan’s entire face scrunched up as he came, Minho kissing his puffy lips as he rode him through the orgasm. He stopped once he was sure Chan couldn’t cum anymore, smiling down at him and earning another soft whine from the older. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Feels like you meant it,” Minho teased, wiggling from side to side slowly before leaning forward and laying himself on top of Chan’s chest. “I’m satisfied, you’re lucky.”

“I was kinda looking forward to that overstim,” Chan joked softly, circling his arms around Minho’s body to hold him close. Minho laid his head on his chest, Chan’s cock softening inside his hole and making him shiver slightly with the strange feeling. “Are you really done? Don’t lie to me.” 

Minho hummed softly, reminded that they should go back to the party when he heard a bang from downstairs. He sat up, lifting himself with some struggle until Chan’s cock flopped onto his tummy and the cum started dripping from his hole. 

“Uhm… I don’t have any towels here,” Minho whispered, looking around the room in search of something to clean it up with. “Shit.”

Chan carefully scooped his fingers through the mess, putting the digits in his mouth to suck off the mix of substances. Minho snorted, lightly hitting his chest in a fond action as Chan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’ll get some from the bathroom,” Chan said, somehow managing to get out from under Minho. “Give me a second.”

He was staring up at the ceiling as Chan came back with a roll of toilet paper in his hand, sitting on the bed on his knees and tearing off some. He gently cleaned Minho even though his legs were still shaking, wiping up the cum and sweat and other mess the best he could. 

When he looked at Minho’s face, the younger was looking back at him. “What?”

“You amaze me,” Minho whispered, taking the tissue from Chan and tossing it to the side so he could pull him down for another hug. “Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?”

“Definitely,” Chan laughed, kissing him again. He reached out to grab one of the toy cars, rolling the wheels with his thumb before placing it on Minho’s leg and driving it up. “At least they didn’t try to find us, that would’ve been messy.”

“Was it good for you?” He wondered, earning a slow nod as Chan ran the car over his stomach and the scars on his chest. “We should go back soon.”

“Just a little longer,” The older whispered, dropping the car on the sheets to run his hands over Minho’s soft skin. He bit down on his lip, red and swollen from earlier. Minho looked beautiful again, everything about him looked soft, Chan felt like he was home. Even with the dinosaurs and race cars and stars around him. “Another round?”

Minho giggled, Chan rolling over to get in between his legs again. “Happy birthday to me."

**Author's Note:**

> my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/H4NEKO)  
> my [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/CH4NGBUN)


End file.
